A Fallen Leaf
by Alasse Faelivrin
Summary: Tag to Episode 209. Can Guy trust Marian again?


Title: A Fallen Leaf

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC)

Pairing: Guy/Marian

Summary: Tag to 209 Tag means here there be spoilers. Proceed with caution.

a/n Unbeta'd and written quickly. I am still in nanowrimo withdrawal, apparently. And desperately waiting for this 210 torrent to finish...

_On Raglan Road on an autumn day, I saw her first and knew,_

_That her dark hair would be a snare, that I might one day rue._

_I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way._

_And I said let grief be a fallen leaf, at the dawning of the day._

_Patrick Kavanaugh_

"She's got you twisted right around her little finger, hasn't she? I really would have thought that by now you'd have learned your lesson. Grown some, hmm," the sheriff grinned, flashing his gapped tooth and plucked a nut from the bowl on the table, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger in front of Gisborne's nose. "Chestnuts."

Gisborne studiously ignored him, concentrating hard on the crust of bread that was his breakfast. He crumbled a stale edge in his fingers and watched the crumbs fall to the thick table. Thinking longingly of Locksley Manor, and eating hot bacon served with fresh bread while surrounded by sycophantic guards, he sighed. Sighed internally, that was. He was not about to give Vasey the satisfaction.

"She's playing you for a fool. Again." Dissatisfied by Gisborne's lack of attention to his jibes, the sheriff leaned further across the table, just inches from Gisborne's face.

Guy closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of his erstwhile employer and replacing it with the image from yesterday of Marian, collapsed in his arms.

_He stood, barely balanced, with each foot planted on a different limb of the ancient oak. Marian sagged against him, trembling into his chest. He held her tightly, arms snug around her middle, her head nestled under his chin. Calming her, breathing in her scent, face buried in her hair. Leaves tickled his cheeks. "Shhh, I've got you. You're safe now."_

_He could have stayed there forever. Except, he was standing in a tree._

_"Guy?" Allan's anxious voice from below. Guy made a mental note to instruct the cocky turncoat on the correct way to address his superior, but at the moment he was glad to have help below. The smoke from the pitch was thick, and he could barely see beyond the branches._

_"Coming down," he called. "It's all right," he soothed quickly to Marian. "I'll lower you down first. My man will catch you." He'd better, his tone implied. Reluctantly, he separated from her, and looped the rope under her arms. He touched her gently on the cheek before lifting her over the edge of the branch._

_"I'm lowering Lady Marian," he called hoarsely to Allan. Holding his breath he let the rope out slowly, dangling her down the ground, as leaves scattered about her._

_"Got her," came Allan's voice back up. Gisborne let out his breath in a heavy sigh. Sliding down the tree himself, he saw that Allan had already helped Marian onto his horse. She sat there shivering, waiting for him. He smiled gently. Removing his cloak, he draped it about her shoulders, and she gave him a grateful smile. He swung himself up behind her, once more nestling her against his chest, as he turned the horse toward Nottingham Castle._

Gisborne took a defiant bite of the stale bread and chewed. It was because of Lady Marian that he had spent an uncomfortable night in Nottingham Castle rather than returning to the comfort of his own home. That he did not trust the sheriff was an understatement, and to allow Marian to spend her first night back under this roof without his protection was absolutely impossible. And so he stayed.

"So, what? Hood broke into the nunnery, grabbed Marian, and took her with him into the forest, just to dangle her from a tree at the opportune moment to save his own life? Do you really seriously expect me to believe that? Do you really seriously believe that yourself? You poor deluded fool."

Refusing to rise to the bait, Guy took another bite of bread. Vasey let out a frustrated snort. "Fine. Keep your pretty little bird. But best keep a close eye on her. We all know what happens to pretty little birds around here."

Lady Marian stood near the window of her chamber, staring out at the rising sun. For weeks she had been here under house arrest, and now she had returned voluntarily. Am I mad? she thought, rising to her toes to peer out the window at the freedom of the trees in the distance.

Perhaps she was. She glanced down at the leather cloak she held in her hands. Gisborne's. She'd still been wearing it when he'd left her the evening before. Slowly she brought the cloak up to her face, remembering the feel of his strong arms around her, his voice soothing her fears. Her fake fears, of course, but he thought they were real. Her emotions, already aroused by Robin, had been so confused by the strength of Guy's touch...

"And people look at me and say they couldn't live with themselves."

Marian whirled, clutching the cloak to her chest, to see Allan slouched against the wall just inside the door. "How did you get in here?" she hissed.

"I'm not being funny," Allan continued, blithely ignoring her question, "but I really don't see the difference between you and me."

Lowering the cloak, Marian stared at him incredulously. "I beg your pardon?"

Allan shrugged. "I was Guy's informant on Robin, and you were Robin's informant on Guy." He paused. "Only I'm out in the open now, and you - you're still playing Guy for all he's worth."

Marian flushed. "That's completely different!"

"Is it? Did you see his face when he saw you dangling from that tree?"

Marian swallowed hard. Yes, she had seen his face. The man had thought her in mortal danger and had been absolutely stricken. She twisted the cloak in her hands, the leather knotting up between her fingers.

Allan pushed away from the wall, raising his eyebrows at the sight of the cloak. "I'll just return that for you, shall I?" He reached out and grasped the bottom of the cloak.

"No." Marian yanked the cloth from Allan's hand. Snapping it so that the leather snapped up in his face, she grabbed the iron ring of the door, pulled it opened and stormed away from him out into the hall, and smack into Guy of Gisborne's chest.

"Marian," Guy caught her as she stumbled, and held her steady just inches from him. His tone was surprised, but his eyes narrowed as he saw Allan behind Marian.

"Guy." Marian stepped back from him, taking a deep breath and trying to recover her composure. "Your man was coming to retrieve your cloak," she said quickly, holding it out to him. "But I was telling him that I wished to return it myself."

"Is that so," Guy raised his eyebrows at Allan, who ducked his head and, avoiding Marian's gaze, slipped off down the corridor in the direction from which Guy had come. Guy turned his gaze back to Marian and his lips curved in a smile. "Thank you," he said, taking the cloth from her with one hand, and slipping the other smoothly into the crook of her elbow. "Now come, take a walk with me." The firmness of his fingers on her arm offered no alternative. Marian swallowed and nodded graciously.

They walked down the wide stone stairs and into the sheltered courtyard. Sheltered, but roofless. It had rained in the night, and wet leaves scrunched under their feet. A low hanging branch from the large oak tree closest the steps dangling a water laden leaf directly in front of her face. Marian plucked it, and twirled the stem between her thumb and forefinger. They had slowed, and she looked up to see Guy staring intensely down on her.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For saving my life. I should have told you last night, how grateful I am."

"Are you?" he asked just as quietly. "Grateful?"

"Of course. If you had not come..."

"What? What would have happened?" Guy faced her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and then dropped them awkwardly to his sides. "Marian, tell me the truth. How did Locksley get you up into that tree?"

She drew a deep breath. Lurking along the covered passageway she saw Allan. His head peaked out through a stone archway, cocked to the side as if to say he would very much like the answer to that question too. She blinked, and he was gone.

"Marian?" Guy was frowning now.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I thought I saw," she bit her lip and shook her head again. "It doesn't matter. Guy, to tell you the truth I'm not quite sure. It all happened so fast, you see." She twirled the leaf again, splattering tiny droplets of water against her wrist. Guy's eyes followed her gaze to the small raw marks there, left by the rope she'd rubbed hard against her skin as he'd frantically climbed the tree to save her. She saw his face soften.

"I was taking a turn with the abbess," she explained with renewed conviction. "At the edge of the forest. We were overconfident, I expect. I mean who would attack two women walking alone, and one of them of the cloth?" she widened her eyes, and saw Guy shake his head slowly at her naivety. "Next thing I knew," she continued, "I was being dragged into the forest. I could not believe it. I tried to reason with him, but he told me he needed my help to retrieve something, and I would not be hurt." She paused. Unwilling to malign Robin entirely, she added, trying to make her voice sound reluctant. "He was bluffing, I think. Or he meant to, and started to panic when he saw the pitch." She shivered, and Guy immediately moved closer to her, his arm coming toward her shoulder. She leaned into him, allowing the embrace. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "He took something valuable, didn't he? And all because of me." She turned her face and pressed it against his chest.

Guy's arms were both around her now, his cloak fluttering unnoticed to the ground. He pressed her against him, then pushed her gently back a few inches and leaned down, his face close enough to hers she could feel his breath on her cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for," he told her, his voice husky. He lifted his hand to her cheek, touching it lightly with his calloused palm, then took a strand of her dark hair, winding it loosely about his finger.

"I should write a letter to the abbess," Marian said, turning her head as far as she dared. His hand radiated heat, as did his eyes. "Let her know that I am safe."

"Later," he murmured. "Marian..." His lips brushed lightly against hers, then more insistently as his fingers tangled themselves further into her hair.

Against her will, or was it? Her mouth opened to him. She returned his kiss as in a dream, eyes closed, and the sound of rustling leaves in her ears.

A clearing of a throat from the archway broke them apart. Hands still on her, Gisborne spoke curtly. "What is it?"

"Sheriff's looking for you, Sir Guy," Allan's quick voice held a warning.

"And it seems he has found you," Vasey swept down the steps toward them, swishing his cloak about him. "Well, isn't this sweet." His lips curled in half a sneer as he looked directly at Marian, who swallowed and took a step back. Gisborne might well be fooled by her story, but it was clear the sheriff bought not a word of it. He continued to regard her coolly. "Come along, Gisborne, there's work to be done. Your lady, and I use that term loosely, will be waiting for you when you return. You can hope, anyway." One more calculating look, and he swept past them, toward the stables.

Marian looked at Guy, her eyes asking him to stand up to the sheriff and defend her. He looked at Vasey, and back at her. His eyes ducked down as his head dipped, and he cleared his throat. Giving her one last, apologetic glance, he murmured very softly. "You'd best write that letter."

"Guy."

But he was off, following the sheriff without a backwards glance. Allan fell into step behind him, and he turned around to give Marian a last look. Marian watched them go, and looking down saw that she still held the leaf, crumpled and soggy in her hand.

"I'm not like Allan," she told the leaf. She let go, and the leaf spiralled from her hand to the ground, coming to rest where Guy's cloak lay, forgotten still, under the shade of the oak tree.

"I'm not."

the end


End file.
